A Dream Within A Dream
by Yva J
Summary: When Carolyn contends with doubt about her writing, the Captain gives her a dream to help inspire her.
1. Chapter 1

_This is my very first 'Ghost and Mrs. Muir' story. While I don't anticipate it being the picture of perfection, it was an effort I wanted to make and really put a good deal of effort into._

_A few notes about this story. It started out being based on the concept from the season 1 episode, 'Captain Gregg's Whiz Bang', which you may immediately recognize. It somehow evolved into a prequel from the season 2 episode 'The Ghost and Christmas Past'. Since these two episodes are my favorites, it stands to reason that my first fiction is about them._

_Another note that you might wish to consider is how during the dream sequences Carolyn and the children ended up at Gull Cottage and this is one writer's perception of how she and the Captain might have met before that dream had happened. This story is almost entirely set in a dream sequence, with the first and third posting set in the present._

_I hope you enjoy this somewhat obscure idea._

* * *

**A Dream Within A Dream**

A _'Ghost and Mrs. Muir'_ story

By: Yva J.

**Part 1**

**May 1856**

_…As the beacon from the distant lighthouse drifted across the sea, I smiled. It had been quite an interesting voyage to say the least. As I stood at the helm of the Schooner Marianne, my thoughts drifted as though a wave rising and falling until it lapped lazily against the hull of the ship._

_We had set sail from Boston to Bristol during the earlier parts of the month. It had been planned as a routine trip and our intentions were merely to transport goods and materials to the men who were stationed in Europe. On the day that the seven day voyage was due to begin, the sun peered only partially out from between a veil of clouds as the sails rustled expectantly in the breeze._

_This brought back memories of the orders I had received just prior to coming aboard. Admiral J. Morton Henderson, upon hearing of my service in a previous mission, requested that I take command of the vessel and its crew. It was to be a normal journey with calm seas to guide us. However, the events, which transpired on board proved beyond any doubt that the best laid plans can veer drastically off course._

_By the end of the voyage, I was nearing ready to throw my honor to the four winds and run like hell just as Captain Horatio Figg had done just prior to the Battle of Vera Cruz. This was due, almost entirely, to the mental stability of my crew._

_These men had been straight from the bottom of a barrel of water rats. All matter of cutthroats and brigands who preferred to sign on for the voyage than to face the gallows. This fact became dangerously clear when a female stowaway was discovered in one of the lifeboats._

_Prior to that discovery, I had always believed that women had no place aboard a seagoing vessel of this kind. Their fantasy stories and romantic impressions were the furthest from actual reality. However, I was bound by my honor as a seaman to protect and watch over her throughout the voyage. Of course, the last thing I anticipated was the newfound feelings in me that developed towards her._

_The overall scenario was bothersome at best, but it had also hardened my resolve as captain to keep her from being ravished by the men under my command. It was for that reason that as we pulled into harbor, I felt a sense of bittersweet relief engulfing me._

_It is only now; at a much later time that I felt compelled to record these events to paper…_

**October 1968**

The ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg lowered his pen, the feathers of the small quill resting gently against the pages of the small personal logbook that he had been writing in. This story was being recorded some one hundred years after the fact, but the memories were still as vivid to him as they had been during the voyage. The romantic essence of the story would ultimately be rewritten and presented as a gift to Carolyn Muir. He knew that in writing this, he could convey his overwhelming feelings towards the widow and still maintain that it was purely a feeble attempt at writing prose.

He raised his head and looked towards the typewriter that was on the desk. After a brief glance, he turned away as his hand brushed along the feather of the 19th century quill. There was something much more authentic about a handwritten story than there was about a typed out manuscript. He would never have admitted that to her, as it seemed counter productive.

He remembered the events of the day when the editor of 'Feminine View' had arrived at Gull Cottage and practically threw himself at the unsuspecting writer. While Daniel Gregg had, in fact, defended Carolyn's honor against Mr. Gordon, he still felt slightly remorseful for having put her in harm's way. If he had not changed her story, then none of this would have happened. Of course, he was still quite uncertain as to whether or not the story would have actually been published if he had not intervened.

Taking a deep breath, he recalled how her version of the story had been dry and uninteresting. Of course, this reminded the ghost about how too much historical accuracy had proven quite detrimental.

Taking a deep breath he blew lightly against the page and waited for the ink to completely dry. Closing the small book, he slipped it quietly into his pocket and disappeared as Carolyn entered the room. Physically, the ghost could no longer be seen, but he was still present.

Moving towards the French doors, he noticed that time had indeed passed quickly and dusk had fallen on Gull Cottage. He positioned himself right next to the telescope and watched as the woman went over and seated herself in front of the typewriter.

ooOoo

Upon sitting down, Carolyn remained stationary for several moments before rubbing her hands together and reaching for a blank piece of paper. Holding it, and instead of immediately inserting it into the typewriter, she stared into the depths of its whiteness. Moments passed and it silently slipped from between her fingers and landed lackadaisically on the desk.

As the widow remained where she was seated, the thoughts that drifted through her mind would not cease. It had been this way ever since Mr. Gordon had left Gull Cottage earlier that day. She smiled slightly as she recalled watching the magazine editor being chased from the sitting room by an angry ghost.

_Why is it that I cannot get this blasted image out of my head?_ She asked herself. No matter how hard she tried, she could not. Even after having enjoyed a half a bowl of ice cream as well as a cold shower, she could still see the image of Captain Gregg in her mind's eye.

The stature of the seaman was overwhelming to say the least, but to actually see him brandishing a sword and preparing himself to defend her honor had left her quite at a loss. She had refused it admit it, but after the editor had left, she could not quite let go of the romantic and chivalrous nature of the captain.

_It was really nothing,_ she tried to convince herself, but there was no way she could. His chiseled features broke into her conscience regardless of the intense resolve of her mind to dismiss it. _It was just him being a 19__th__ century gentleman, _her thoughts continued to argue._ Even in the wake of this, I don't think that anything will ever change between us. He will still call me 'Madam' or, worse, 'Mrs. Muir'._

Seconds later, the ghost appeared directly behind her. "Good evening, Madam," he said cordially, his words causing her to jump, her hands unconsciously clasping one another. "I did not mean to frighten you," he quickly amended.

"It's alright," Carolyn managed to speak as she began to relax. Once her heartbeat had returned to normal, she lowered her hands and allowed them to rest against the surface of the desk. "Good evening, Captain."

"Is everything alright?" He asked. "You don't quite seem yourself this evening."

In lieu of an immediate response, the ghost watched as she got to her feet before turning around to face him. "I'm fine," she said after several moments of awkward silence had passed between them. She then tried to force herself to smile, but this proved quite unconvincing.

"No, you are not fine, I think deep down, you are still quite upset by what happened today," he said in his usual matter-of-fact manner.

"I'm not upset, Captain," she began. "I'm just finding myself back at square one with story ideas and it's frustrating."

He nodded, but it was clear that he was not at all convinced by her words. In fact, if he did not know any better, these diversion tactics were quite typical of her. There was something bothering her, he was almost certain and he was determined to find out what it was. "Are you starting to doubt your ability as a writer?" He eventually asked.

Carolyn raised her head and looked at him, her eyes widening. "What do you mean by that, Captain?" She asked; her voice indicative that she had taken strong offense to his question.

"Madam, I did something that I regretted," he began. "I also apologized for it and as you know, apologies are not one of my strengths."

"No kidding," she muttered under her breath. "You can say that again."

Daniel Gregg took a deep breath as he tried yet again to make amends. "I did not intend to offend you, Mrs. Muir."

"I know," she relented. "And maybe you're right. Maybe I am thinking about what happened with Mr. Gordon and wondering…"

"Wondering what?" He asked, his words trying to persuade her to continue speaking.

"Wondering if what you said was true," she began. "Ever since this afternoon, I've been asking myself if the story that I wrote would have even been published on its own without your help."

"And so you're pushing yourself to write something without any of my influence?" He asked. "That's why you're sitting here now…to prove to yourself that you are good at what you do."

"You didn't say that when we collaborated on the story," she argued. "If you had believed in me or at least in my judgment as a writer, then you wouldn't have changed it."

He nodded. "You are quite right, Madam."

"It's sad that your acknowledgment doesn't really change anything," she continued. "I can't go through life second-guessing myself. It's not the way I am."

"No, it isn't," he affirmed.

"Now, regardless of what you said earlier, my reputation as a writer is still on the line. I have to write something myself and get it published so that I can prove to myself that I'm capable. If I can't, then I don't know what else there is for me to do."

"Was this experience working together really that horrible?" He asked softly, his voice taking on a more seductive cadence.

"I didn't say that, I've just had too much time to think about it and now I need to come up with something new and I haven't got a single idea in my head," she sighed.

"Then now is not the right time to try," he said. "You should get some rest and try again tomorrow," he said as he pulled the book from the depths of his pocket. "I had intended on giving you this much later, but perhaps you ought to read it now."

"What is it?" She asked.

"It's a transcript of my memories of what really happened on the _Schooner Marianne_. I had intended on transcribing it for you, but I have this strange feeling that perhaps it might help you now." He extended the leather-bound book towards her and waited for her to accept it. Once she had, he bowed slightly. "I will leave you now, Mrs. Muir. I wish you a good night."

Carolyn nodded and once the ghost was gone, she ran her hand over the cover. _If only it was,_ she thought to herself as she crossed the room and placed the object at the foot of the bed. She then grabbed her dressing gown and started to get ready for bed.

Upon her return, she picked it up and placed it on the nightstand before pulling the bedding aside and crawling beneath the sheets. Once she was comfortable, she reached for the book, opened it, and began to read the story of Captain Gregg's adventure. As she began to internalize the events that were neatly penned to the page, she could feel herself becoming drowsy.

Within minutes, she laid the book aside, snuggled up to her pillow, and closed her eyes.

As soon as she had fallen asleep, Captain Gregg materialized next to her bed and spoke. "You will now see the events in your own way, my dear. It may perhaps seem unorthodox to you, but this time it is my memory that you will be seeing. The person you will meet will have no experiences of the 20th century or you."

He waved his hand and watched as a small smile spread across the sleeping woman's face.


	2. Chapter 2

_There are some adult situations in this chapter, but there is no intense description of them, and I think that it is safe to rate this as a 'T' rated story._

* * *

**Part 2**

**Carolyn Muir's Dream**

The stirring sounds of the wind as it blew against the sails caused Carolyn to awaken. As she shifted, she gasped when she felt the uneven wooden type planks that were beneath her weight. Not knowing how it was she had gotten there, she rubbed her face with her hands as the nearby sights and sounds filled her conscience.

Sitting up somewhat, she began by touching her arm. In doing so, she could feel the scratchy fabric of her clothing and guessed that she was wearing a dress of some kind. Shifting her attention, she noticed that directly over her head was a tarp with holes about the size of quarter dollars. Given the limited amount of light that was visible, she concluded that the blue haze she was seeing between them was the sky. Audibly, she could hear what appeared to be waves as they lapped against the sides of a moving ship.

_Ship, _she thought as she tried to move the tarp aside so that she could see what was beyond her area of confinement. As she did, she caught a glimpse of the bluest sky she had ever seen.

_Where am I? _She pondered as she looked around half expecting to find herself in bed. After all, the last thing she remembered was being at home in her soft, warm bed at Gull Cottage. _What is this place?_ The questions continued as she moved her hand and felt a cold, damp, wooden surface beneath it.

Suddenly an abrupt brightness streamed into where she lay and blinded her. As her eyes began to adjust to the new light, she recognized that she was lying on her back in a rickety old lifeboat. Turning her head, she could see that a small suitcase was beside her and she was dressed in what looked to be a simple 19th century peasant's dress. She raised her head to see what had caused it and discovered that five men were standing over and staring down at her.

From this vantage point, she could see that the men were all dressed in the typical seaman's garb. The off white tunics, with blue bandanas struck her as somewhat familiar, but still their presence was quite unsettling. Three of their faces were masked with unkempt beards and two carried the stubble and scars that reminded her of the stories she had often read about pirates.

Within seconds, one of the men leaned down and pulled her roughly out from the confines of her hiding place. This allowed her to gain even more insight about their overall appearance. They were all dressed in uniform albeit dirty as though they had been working on deck throughout the morning. To complete their somewhat simple ensemble, they were donned in beige britches, and knee high black boots.

The observations ended when one of the men got up into her face and she was nearly knocked out by the scent of brandy that was on his breath. "Now then, what have we here?"

Unconsciously, she tried to back away from him, but soon discovered that his shipmates had blocked her only means of escape. The leering expressions shifted to an almost confrontational stance as a second man spoke. "I saw her first."

Upon hearing those weak sounding words emerging, Carolyn raised her head and regarded the man. He was the smallest of the five, and it soon became apparent that his argument had been a futile attempt at warding off his shipmates.

Still, he had made an attempt at staking a claim on her and this disgusted her. She cringed when she felt a third man reach over and roughly grip her chin. "She's a right pretty lass; especially when she's scared."

In response to this, she pulled away from him, but instead of escaping, she backed clumsily into a forth man. Instead of aiding her, he instinctively wrapped his arms around and held her tightly. "Look fellas; she's taken a shine to me."

_Oh dear God please send someone to help me,_ she thought as the sound of loud footsteps were heard approaching.

"What is the meaning of this?" A commanding voice was suddenly heard amidst her silent prayer. "You men are supposed to be tending to your duties."

Upon hearing the voice, the man who held her captive abruptly released his hold on her and backed away. Once he had done so, she felt her weight giving out and despite her unwillingness to show weakness, she sank to her knees.

"We were, Captain," the braver of the men responded. "Look at what we found. This little lass was hiding in one of the lifeboats."

The captain came closer and Carolyn found herself lowering her head as his words emerged. "I will take care of the stowaway; you boys get back to your duties. Now!"

"Aye, aye, Captain," the men responded as they quickly dispersed.

Once they had left, the captain was left staring down at the frightened woman who was still on her knees in front of him. _She wasn't crying, that was a good sign,_ he thought as he crouched down beside her. "The men are gone."

She raised her head and her eyes met his for the first time. "T-thank you," she said, clearly relieved, but also surprised by the uncanny resemblance between the man who rescued her and the specter who haunted her home.

He nodded. "Perhaps you won't be thanking me once we get this confusion sorted out. What are you doing here? Is your boyfriend one of the crew?"

"No," she whispered. "You may not believe me, but I was asleep, and then I woke up just before the men found me. They were staring at me as though they intended on hurting me."

"Hurting you? My dear, they had no intention of that, their only objective was to ravish you," he said. "And if I had not come when I did, then that is precisely what they would have done."

In lieu of an immediate response, she grasped the collar of her dress fearfully and closed her eyes. _This can't be real,_ she thought desperately.

Eventually, she found her voice and spoke, the words emerging much softer than intended. "I don't belong here; I should go."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he said. "We are now out on open seas. The next stop is Bristol."

"Bristol? England?" She whispered. "I don't understand how this could happen."

The captain took a deep breath as he regarded her. Instead of getting angry, as he felt himself inclined to do, he tried to talk reason with her. "Did you suddenly take leave of your senses? You were hiding in a lifeboat, and anyone, even a landlubber, would know that a lifeboat is connected to a ship, and this one has set sail. We cannot turn back, and whether you like it or not, you are now a passenger."

"What's going to happen to me?" She asked. "I can't go to Bristol, I have family in Schooner Bay; my children, Martha…" her voice broke.

"Schooner Bay, Maine?" He asked.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Strange that you would mention that particular town, I built a house there," he said.

Carolyn took a deep breath as she looked at him. "You did?"

"Yes, Gull Cottage," he said. "Have you heard of it?" She nodded, but before she could offer any sort of verbal response, his next question emerged. "Where are your children staying right now?"

"They're staying with my uncle," she said sadly. "My penny pinching Uncle Claymore…"

"…And now you're on the way to Bristol," he responded dispassionately.

"Yes, but what's going to happen when we get there?" She objected. "I can't live in Bristol, my family…they're going to wonder what on earth happened to me."

"Not to worry, my dear. Once we dock, I can send word back to Boston that you're with us and they can notify your family," he said. "From there, you can seek passage back home. At the most, your family will only miss you for a couple of weeks."

"But, until then, what do I do?" She asked. "Aside from trying to ward off the testosterone charged gorillas, that is."

"You will be safe as long as you remain in my company. However, I do believe that we must remain proper, and that means you must know my name, and I yours," he said. "I am Captain Daniel Gregg."

"You're C-Captain Gregg?" She whispered the name, but it was clear that she could not believe what was happening. Yes, he had mentioned building Gull Cottage, but somehow the realization had not hit her until he had actually told her his name. _How was this even possible?_ She asked herself. _He does not know me, but yet I can recall so much about him._

"So, you've heard of me?" His question broke through her contemplations.

"You could say that," she whispered. "Your reputation precedes you."

He smiled and offered a half nod. "I see, and you are?"

"You mean; you really don't know who I am?"

"My dear, I have never seen you before in my life," he responded. "If I had, then I would have surely remembered one as fair and attractive as you."

Carolyn's face flushed slightly at his compliment, but her expression remained confused. "W-what year is this?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Never mind," she responded sadly. It seemed clear that if she told him the truth about their initial meeting; then he'd no doubt think she had submitted herself to the madness.

"You're a strange one, but you have yet to tell me your name," he said.

"It's Carolyn Muir."

The captain nodded. "Well then, perhaps I must take you below deck to a cabin. There you will be safe for the duration of the journey."

"How long will it take?"

"If we have calm seas, it should only take a week," he said. "Not to worry madam, if your husband really loves you, then he and the children will wait for your return."

"I doubt that," she responded. "My husband is dead. All I have now is my friend, Martha, and my children, Candace and Jonathan."

"I had no idea," he said. "My condolences."

"It's alright Captain, he passed away some three years ago," she said softly, but glanced back in the direction of the lifeboat. "I need my suitcase."

"Where is it?" He asked.

"I guess it's still in the lifeboat," she said. "Maybe the contents will somehow explain how specifically I got here."

The captain went over to the lifeboat and once he had retrieved it, he returned to her side and offered his arm to her. "Well, then allow me to assist you in getting settled." When he noticed that she was hesitating, he continued. "You have nothing to fear, Madam, the code of the sea demands that I uphold and defend your honor and that is precisely what I intend to do. However, staying up here on deck could prove far more detrimental to you than allowing me to take you below."

She nodded, but when she reached out to accept his offered arm, her eyes widened when she felt the firmness of it beneath her touch.

ooOoo

Below deck, Carolyn immediately understood that she was now trapped in a man's world. The darkened corridor was long and narrow with cabin doors on either side. These were separated by a three-inch wall. She cringed as the mixed odors of sweat and brandy engulfed her and fearfully, she gripped the captain's arm even tighter.

"Just a bit further," he said as he reached over with his free hand and tried to pry her vice-like grip from his arm. After some moments, he felt her hold loosen and her hand limply rested against the bend of his arm.

Instead of responding, she continued to take in her new surroundings until they had reached a door that was some distance from those, which they had already passed. Instead of paying it any mind, her thoughts continued to drift. _Why can't he remember me?_ She asked herself as she raised her head and stared momentarily at him.

After several moments, Captain Gregg turned and looked at her. "Madam, you're staring," he said as he pulled his arm out of her hold in order to retrieve a large key-ring from the pocket of his tunic.

"I'm sorry," she responded.

Nodding, he began to move the keys around until he found the one he needed. He then stuck it in the door and turned it.

As soon as the door was opened, he quietly ushered her inside and then closed the door behind them. The suitcase, he placed against the wall.

Uncertain as to what to do, Carolyn began to take in the attributes of the cabin. It was small and cramped with a desk, two chairs, a bunk, and a small cabinet. There was only one porthole and this was just above the desk. When she noticed that a uniform jacket was draped over one of the chairs and maps and charts were covering the desk, she looked at him. "It looks like someone else already lives here," she said softly.

"Yes, someone does," the Captain replied. "You see, this ship does not have the proper accommodations for a lady. Normally stowaways are locked in the brig and fed only bread and water."

Carolyn's face paled. "Y-you're not going to lock me up, are you?"

"Would you prefer it?" He asked. When she shook her head, he continued speaking. "You will be sharing this space with me. Now, you do realize that this is not going to be easy for either of us. You have already succeeded in disrupting my crew. These men haven't seen a woman in quite some time, and they are an unruly lot."

Carolyn shuddered, but offered a slight nod. "I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused by being here. It was never my intention, Captain."

"Well, then, let's find out why you are here," he said simply. "I can't believe that you would just find yourself in a lifeboat." He reached for the suitcase and picked it up and threw it on the bunk. He then motioned with his hand for her to open it.

Hesitantly, Carolyn flipped it open and found herself staring down at the contents of it. On the very top was a folded parchment. The captain picked it up and began to read. "It states here that you were sent to the docks on special assignment for the _Schooner Bay Beacon_. It goes on to list the names of people you were supposed to interview." He rubbed his hand against his beard and his eyes scanned the page. "Oddly, one of them is my First Mate, but nowhere does it say anything about how you ended up hiding in a lifeboat." He returned the papers to the suitcase.

"Well, at least now I know why I was at the dock," she said.

"Perhaps," he said. "But, there must be a logical reason for all this, and I intend to find out what that is."

Despite the captain's somewhat reassuring words, Carolyn was still unhappy about the situation she had found herself in. As she glanced towards the man who was still standing next to her, she knew that this 'Captain Gregg' clearly did not believe her story of unintentionally finding herself on board his ship. _If only I could prove to him that it was an accident,_ she thought sadly as tears caught beneath her eyelids. _Oh what does it matter anyway? All I want is the old Captain Gregg back. I want nothing more than to see the ghost who knows me, believes me, and is my friend._

After some time had passed, the widow found her voice and spoke. "Captain Gregg?" She waited for him to turn back around and look at her. When he finally did, she continued speaking. "How is it that you can't remember me but I remember so much about you?"

"I don't know," he said with a shake of his head. "I do know that while you are here, there are some rules you must follow. This is not a pleasure cruise, Mrs. Muir, and you are not going to be treated like royalty. You are here under my protection but that means, you are to have absolutely no contact with my crew. The deck is completely off limits, and under no circumstances are you to roam this ship without my being present. Have I made myself clear?"

Carolyn closed her eyes and nodded. "I'm a prisoner here, just not one confined to the brig."

"These rules are for your own safety," he said impatiently.

"My safety," she whispered. "I don't feel safe at all."

"Blast it all woman, I am being reasonable and fair," he snapped. "Until I find out what specifically happened, I expect that you remember that I am still captain here and you are now on board my ship."

"I'm sorry," she said, all the while smiling slightly at his choice of words. Maybe there was something about her Captain Gregg in this man after all.

ooOoo

During the days that followed, Carolyn Muir and Daniel Gregg were forced into spending a good deal of time in each other's company. Knowing that the captain could not be with her every moment of every day, Carolyn resolved herself to heeding the rules that had been laid down.

This did not stop several members of the crew from trying everything in their power to lure the female passenger away from the Captain. Much to all of their surprise, the attempts that were made had been futile. Perhaps this was because the widow did not trust the crew, but also because the captain's daunting presence loomed over them and would not be challenged.

On the sixth day of their journey to Bristol, the day dawned with beautifully calm seas and a breathtaking sunrise. This would ultimately give way to a clear blue sky and crisp winds. This was what would ultimately draw the unsuspecting widow out of the safety of the captain's cabin.

Although Carolyn had no intention of going back on her word, she felt strangely drawn to the upper deck. Perhaps the reason for this was because of the long days that she spent alone in confinement. She longed to see the sun and experience watching it rise over the distant waters.

She reached the top of the stairs and stood in the landing watching as the sun ascended and lit up the sky. Once the natural spectacle had ended, she turned to make her way back down the stairs and back to the safety of the cabin.

As she reached the landing, she discovered that her path was now being blocked. Standing in the corridor was the First Mate and he appeared to be waiting for her. On the surface, he was a tall and intimidating man with coal black hair, a beard, and bulging muscles. His stature was scary and reminded her vaguely of Bluto from the 'Popeye' cartoons.

Trying to ignore the disquietedness that enveloped her, she approached in order to pass him by. She was quickly dissuaded when he moved to the center of the corridor and blocked her intended path. There he stood, with one elbow pressed up against the bulkhead and a leering expression plastered on his face.

It was at that moment that Carolyn had come to realize that the stringent rules that Captain Gregg had laid down for her had been put in place for her safety. In choosing to break even one of them, she had put herself at great risk.

"Well, what do we have here? A little mouse has finally come out for some cheese," he began, his voice a low and steady drawl.

"I am not a mouse, and you are in my way," she responded, her words sounding much braver than she felt. "Please sir, do let me pass."

"Let you pass?" He chortled. "I don't think so, Lass." He reached over and touched her face. "I've been at sea for months and I'd fancy some company."

"Who said I was willing to offer it?" She retorted.

"I did," the seaman said. "I'll tell you a little secret, Lass; it was me and several of my mates who got you into that lifeboat. We knew it was the perfect opportunity for us to have a little fun and a peasant girl would never even be missed."

"I am not a 'peasant girl' and I am being missed," she shouted angrily. "Furthermore, I intend to tell the captain what you have done."

"How?" The First Mate shot back. "You don't even remember what happened. If you can't even tell Captain Gregg that, then how do you expect him to believe you? For all he knows, you simply stowed away to gain cheap passage to Bristol."

"I don't believe you," she whispered. "The captain is a good man and he won't believe something just because someone tells him."

"Who went and made you an authority on Captain Gregg, Lass?" The First Mate thundered as he reached out and grabbed her hair in a tight fist. "I know him better than any man on board his ship, and he ain't gonna take your word for anything. He thinks you came here to disrupt things." As he spoke, he pulled hard on her tresses and she found herself forced up against the bulkhead.

Despite the pain that she felt from his handlings, the truth of his words hurt even more. The First Mate was right; Captain Gregg would believe his crew over her. She had no leverage here; in fact, her presence was unwarranted and unwanted.

As the tears caught in her eyes, she waited for him to initiate some sort of physical contact with her, but when that did not happen, she slowly opened her eyes and gasped.

Behind the crewman, the captain stood; a raised sword in his hand and a livid expression on his face. "If you know what's good for you, you'll back away and leave her in peace," he said crossly as he levied the weapon towards the First Mate's chest, his eyes filled with contempt. "To the brig with you, _Mate_."

"Captain, I can explain…" the man began.

The captain shook his head as he motioned with the sword to his cabin door and spoke. "Madam, get back into the cabin and stay there," he said firmly. He watched as she obediently nodded before frantically retreating. Once she was gone, he returned his attention to the First Mate.

"So, you thought that I was too naïve to know what was going on. You decided that since you wanted to have your fun, you'd snatch a young woman who had legitimately been sent to the docks in the first place." With the sword still in hand; he shook his head. "You barnacle…you should be keel-hauled for this." He grabbed the officer's arm and started to push him down the corridor. "To the brig!"

"But Captain…" the officer objected.

"To…the…brig!" Captain Gregg annunciated each word as he angrily shoved the man down a second level of stairs. At the landing, he forced the First Mate down another corridor and into the small prison. Once the First Mate was locked inside, he returned the sword to its sheath before making his way back in the direction of his cabin.

ooOoo

Reaching it, he opened the door to find Carolyn half seated, half lying on the edge of the bunk. Her face was pressed against the pillow and her entire body was wracking with sobs.

Instead of speaking, he closed the door softly and approached where she was seated. Taking a deep breath, he sat down beside her and watched as she raised her head and started to haphazardly wipe the tears away. Watching her do this made the captain realize to what extent the young widow was shaken up.

A small tinge of guilt suddenly washed over him as he watched her try and conceal her overwhelming emotions. She was not only contending with the trauma of what had happened out in the corridor, but also the realization that she had been held on his ship against her will.

"Mrs. Muir…Carolyn," he spoke, all the while trying to keep his voice soft.

"I know what you're going to say, Captain, and I'm sorry," she whispered. "What I did was dangerous and irresponsible."

Wordlessly, he reached over and rested his hand gently on her shoulder. Through this simple gesture, he could feel it trembling from beneath his touch. Knowing that she was trying to keep herself from crying in front of him, he took a deep breath and allowed any existing hostility to crumble away. "Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly, but after several moments had passed in silence, she stopped nodding her head and started shaking it violently. Fresh tears unconsciously escaped from beneath her eyelids and this time there were far too many for her to conceal.

"Belay that," he commanded, but when that went unheeded, he took a deep breath. "Please don't cry," his words were no longer an order, but instead an appeal. "I cannot bear it when a woman cries."

Carolyn nodded as she wiped the remainder of her tears away. "Please forgive me, Captain. I suppose there is really nothing that I could say in my defense. I should have stayed here like you said."

"Why didn't you?" He asked.

"I don't know, b-but it won't happen again," she responded meekly.

"I most certainly hope not," he said. "If it did, I may not be around to render assistance."

"It was very nice…," her voice broke when she saw him cringing. Immediately she recovered and offered him a much more formal statement of gratitude. "…I mean; it was noble of you to help me back there."

"I could not have done otherwise," he said softly as he reached over and pulled her into his embrace. When she felt her face gently pressed against him, she allowed even more tears to fall. "I cannot tell you how regretful I am that you were made to suffer unjustly because of the actions of my crew."

"Y-you knew about that?" She whispered, as she allowed her body to completely relax in his embrace.

"I overheard everything that barnacle said and saw everything he tried to do to you," he said with a nod of his head. "It all makes sense to me now and it explains fully how you ended up here with no memory of what happened."

"I figured that you'd be furious with me for breaking the rules," she mumbled more to herself than to him.

He shook his head. "No, my dear, I'm angrier about what might have happened to you had I not been there."

"To me?" Carolyn asked weakly.

"Yes. You see, I was far more concerned for your well being than anything else. I know that the rules were very harsh, but they were in place so that you would be safe while on board."

"I know that now," she whispered. "I just wanted to see the sunrise. I thought there was no harm in that."

"Normally, there isn't," he said.

"Please forgive me, Captain Gregg."

"Please, no more apologies," he said. "I know that I cannot fault you for wishing to go up on deck and getting away from the solitude of this cabin. I had merely hoped that you would have entrusted me with your wishes. I could have made it possible without you feeling as though you had to sneak around. When I came down from the deck and discovered what was happening, I had no other option but to understand that perhaps you have what is commonly known as 'cabin fever'."

"Does that mean that I'm sick?"

"No, my dear, it's what generally happens when one feels trapped or locked away for a duration of time. Yes, it has been my experience that some seamen do become bored or restless from it; but generally it doesn't last for too long. In fact; I have rarely had a passenger or crewmate who developed it after only one voyage."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Consider this; you haven't tried anything insane to alleviate it. When I think about everything that you have been through; I'm left to conclude that your mind is in rather good order," he said smiling.

"That's just on the surface," she whispered. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"Nonsense," he replied. "You are just as sane as I am."

The comment was met with silence, but after some moments had passed, the captain began to chuckle. When his laughter died down, he continued speaking. "Besides, once we dock, you will be rid of me as well as those testosterone charged gorillas."

Carolyn took a deep breath, but lowered her head. She was not quite certain she wanted to say good-bye to the captain. He seemed more and more like the spirit of Gull Cottage. Now, to her, he was the only thing left that felt familiar.

Eventually, she put those thoughts into words.

"Captain, I know that I must seek passage back home when we get to Bristol, but I don't know how to go about doing it and I haven't the means in which to do so," she whispered. "I feel as though I am trapped somehow."

"I understand how you feel, my dear," he said. "I seem to recall having a similar experience back when I was a boy. For you the driving force is fear and uncertainty, but for me, it was a thirst for adventure and an overwhelming desire for a change of scenery."

"How did it happen?" She asked, momentarily forgetting her own problems.

"The same as it happens with most boys that age," he said. "The desire to run off to sea became so great that I ran away to the docks and stowed-away in a large wardrobe that was being sent from England to America. I was sixteen and aspired to be a man. The only trouble was; I didn't have the vaguest notion of what it meant to be one."

"Was it easy?"

He shook his head. "No, and only a fool would tell you that it is. You see, that's the way it is when one dreams big. I think that's what made me want to find out what your story was. You seem so passionate about the things that you care for. There's so much spunk and drive in you, and it reminded me a bit of myself as a lad. That's what I see when I look at you, I see someone who wants to make a life for herself; just the same as I longed to make a life for myself. And like you, I pondered what I would do once the ship had docked. How would I get along with no friends or family to keep me company?"

"That's what frightens me the most," she whispered brokenly. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. All I know is that I'd rather be in a place with people I trust than to be forced into one filled with strangers."

"I understand that," he said with a nod of his head.

"You do?"

"Of course, the places that are familiar to me are at the helm of a ship where I can decide my own fate," he smiled. "What about you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, let's start with something easy. What trade have you learned?"

"I'm a writer, but I've also done quite a bit of bookkeeping," she said.

"I can't imagine you doing something tedious like bookkeeping; at least not willingly," he said honestly. "You're much too exciting a person to just sit cooped up in an office." He smiled at her. "But writing, now that seems a lot more intriguing to me. What sort of writing have you done?"

"Nothing really extensive; I've just written short stories and articles," she responded.

The captain began to run his hand along his beard before looking at her. "Well, it seems to me that this little adventure you have come on will catalyze some rather remarkable material for a story. Perhaps you might explore the idea of a young woman embarking on a new world."

"That sounds a bit romantic," she mused.

"Perhaps," he smiled at her.

"You don't seem like someone who would appreciate a romance," she said weakly.

"Oh you never know."

"Maybe, but Captain, I'd like to know where you're going after this voyage ends and the next one begins." As she was speaking, she looked deeply into his eyes.

"Why is that?"

"I don't know, maybe because you're the most fascinating and heroic person I have ever met," she responded.

His smile broadened upon hearing her compliment. "I'm not sure about heroic or fascinating, but I will oversee the return to Boston with a cargo of European spices. That will commence in two days."

She nodded as she began to rub her hands together nervously. Before speaking, she took a deep breath. "Captain Gregg, w-would you take me back with you?"

The captain raised his head and took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, his next words emerged. "That was not the intended plan."

"I know, and believe me, three or four days ago, I probably would never have considered it to even be an option. But, since I have to go back, I'd rather go back with someone I know, and not start all over again." She paused and waited for him to respond. When he did not, she continued. "Besides, it was not me who stowed-away in your ship; it was members of your crew who abducted me."

"I realize that," he said.

"Then you will help me get home?" She asked softly.

When he still did not respond, she took a deep breath as she rested her hand on his shoulder. "Please, Captain. I know that having me here is burdensome, but I do feel safe with you, and I am willing to abide by whatever rules you lay down. I won't break anymore of them, I promise."

He reached over to where her hand was resting against his shoulder and covered it with his own. "I have never freely allowed a woman on board my ship, but you are here, and I seemed to have met my match in you."

"What do you mean?" She asked weakly.

In lieu of a response, he took her hand in his and turned it over so that her palm was facing upwards. With a certain amount of ceremony, he pressed it to his lips. "I will grant you passage, but on one condition."

"Anything you ask of me, I'll do."

"I would like to be your friend, and as long as we are friends, then please do me the honor of calling me 'Daniel'," he said.

She nodded as she glanced down and noticed that not only was her hand still in his, but it was now squeezing somewhat possessively. "Daniel," she shyly whispered as a slight blush covered her cheeks. "Would you call me 'Carolyn' like you did earlier?"

He nodded wordlessly, but raised his hand and allowed it to brush gently against her cheek.

ooOoo

As promised, upon their arrival in Bristol, Daniel Gregg accompanied Carolyn to the telegraph office and sent word back to Boston that she was with him and that her family in Schooner Bay was to be notified.

It was a huge relief for the widow when the two of them stepped out of the office and started to make their way back in the direction of the waterfront. Passersby would often stop, stare, and even speak when they saw the distinguished looking sea captain and a young looking peasant woman walking side by side.

"It would seem that the good captain has gone and found himself a woman of the night," One woman whispered to her companion as they passed. As luck would have, Carolyn had not heard those particular words, but the captain had. He turned his head and glared back at the couple.

Normally, he did not care what others thought of him, but after looking at his escort's shabby ensemble, he had to admit that the dress was in a terrible state of disarray. It stood to reason since she had been wearing the same outfit for the past week.

Sighing, he remembered the first day when they had inspected the suitcase that she had carried on board and only found notebooks, quills, and scrolls.

After passing several more people who were shaking their heads at them, he realized that there was one more thing that they had to do before leaving Great Britain.

"Carolyn?" He eventually spoke once they had found a secluded spot along the waterfront. There, they would be able to speak without fear of being watched, judged, or overheard.

She turned and looked at him. Hearing her first name being spoken by him made her feel special. Perhaps he was completely unaware of the impact he was having on her.

"I think our next stop should be a dressmaker," he said firmly. "You must have something new to wear back to Boston that does not define you as a peasant or worse, a woman of the night."

Carolyn shuddered unconsciously as she lowered her head. "I do look rather untidy, don't I? That's why those people were staring at us. They probably thought that I was…" her voice trailed.

"You noticed that?" He asked.

"I'm a writer, Daniel; I'm supposed to notice things. I just don't always acknowledge it when someone insults me," she whispered. "Being called a peasant is the least of my concerns right now. Besides, I am a peasant."

"No, you're not."

"Well, then I must thank you because you're the only person who doesn't think so," she said with a brave smile. "My uncle never grows tired of reminding me of that."

"Well, then your uncle is a barnacle," he said firmly.

"A barnacle who gave me a job," she said with an unhappy sigh. "At least I had a job before I ended up sailing to Bristol."

He wrapped a gentle arm around her shoulder. "Carolyn, please try not to worry. You will obtain an even better job once we return to Schooner Bay. Right now, let me do something for you, not as a favor that one person does for another, but as someone who really and truly cares. Just know that I wish for nothing in return except that which you have already given; your friendship."

"But dresses are so expensive, and it feels like I'm accepting charity," she whispered.

"Please," he began. "I know that you are an independent woman and normally would not accept such ostentatious gifts from a man, but remember, I am responsible for your current situation. If your uncle insists on saying or doing horrible things to you, then I think it's high time that you start to see in yourself what I see."

"What do you see?" She asked.

"A beautiful lady who has far more potential than others give her credit for having," he said firmly.

Carolyn blushed, but shook her head. "Maybe you're right, Daniel, but I do feel really special when I'm with you."

"Well, then, let me ask you one question," he began as he looked intently at her. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. "I think I've trusted you since the moment we first met."

He smiled as he turned around and faced her. One of his arms was still wrapped around her shoulders and instead of lowering it; he raised his other arm so that he could pull her into his hold. "That makes me very happy."

"It does?"

He smiled and nodded. "Yes, you have reminded me of what it feels like to love another person more than I love myself. You have changed me in ways that I cannot fully describe. Right now, I want nothing more than to protect you, not because of honor; honor be hanged. It's because I love you." As he spoke, one of his hands moved until it was gently cupping her face. "I want to be there for you and your children, that is if you will have me."

"Do you really feel that way about me, Daniel?" She whispered from within his embrace. As these words filled his ears, he backed abruptly away to see that a bashful smile was now on her face.

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, my dear," he said gently.

"It's strange, but I've asked myself for so long how someone as magnificent as you could ever care for someone like me," she whispered. "This all feels so unreal."

"For me it is but a moment in a dream," he said as he leaned towards her his lips seeking hers. "It is a dream that will have no end, at least not quite yet." As these words filled her ears, she felt his lips gently pressing against her own.

Moments later, they withdrew and he smiled down at her. "Now, I will not hear any arguments, my love, we must get to the dressmaker's straightaway. Tonight, we shall embark on our voyage back to Boston and when we get to Schooner Bay, I would very much like for you and your family to live in Gull Cottage and take care of it when I am away at sea."

"You want us to do that?"

The captain nodded. "You shall always be by my side, but not as you currently are, but as my beloved. In knowing this, that motley crew of ragamuffins whom I call a crew will know that you are the captain's lady and always under my protection."

"I love you…" she whispered as his lips once more sought hers.

ooOoo

Carolyn Muir stepped onto the deck of the _Schooner Marianne_ that evening with Captain Daniel Gregg at her side. No one in the crew knew or suspected that the woman standing by the captain had been introduced to the sea as an abducted stowaway the week before. In fact, she was now dressed in a pristine dark rose colored dress, her hand now pressed against the bended arm of the man she loved.

Seeing the expressions of respect that lined the faces of the men on deck, Carolyn knew almost instinctively that her journey home would be a far cry different than the one that she had taken to Bristol. She raised her head and looked at the man standing at her side.

"It is time to shove off," the captain said firmly.

Carolyn joined him at the helm and watched as the ship departed from England's shores.

As the sails unfurled, she could feel the gratitude washing over her.

She knew at that moment that all would be well…for her, her family, and…her captain.

**Carolyn Muir's Dream End**


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

As she shifted on the bed, Carolyn opened her eyes to see the familiar room back at Gull Cottage. "Captain?" She whispered to the stillness as she sat up on the bed and looked out across the room. It was the same as she remembered, and the typewriter indicated to her what year it really was.

Seeing no one in the room, she crawled out from beneath the covers and reached for her dressing gown. _Oh my God, what a dream,_ she thought as she pulled it over her nightgown and glanced over at the small book that was still resting on her nightstand. Instead of calling out to him a second time, she went into her closet and got dressed. Once she was ready to face the day, she came out into the room and spoke.

"Captain, are you here?"

Seconds later the ghost materialized in front of her. "Good morning, Mrs. Muir. Are you feeling well rested?"

"That seems a strange question coming from someone who fed a dream into my mind about being on ship bound for Bristol in the 19th century," she said firmly.

The ghost pressed his fingertips against his chest and nodded his head once as though inquiring if she was accurate in her assumptions.

Understanding his silent communication, she nodded. "Captain, I dreamt about a very suave sea captain and I was the unwilling stowaway," she responded. "The captain was you, but what I didn't really understand was that you didn't know me at first. It was much nicer later on, but in the beginning it was really quite scary."

"Was it?" He asked as he tilted his head to one side and offered her an alluring smile.

"Yes, and I know that you did something to persuade me into having that sort of dream," she said. Before waiting for him to respond, she brushed her lips with her fingertip as a slight smile touched them. "Didn't you?"

The ghost tugged on his ear, but smiled at her. "Perhaps it was my way of apology as well as a way to perhaps inspire you to write things down from your own perspective."

"Do you know what happened in that dream?" She asked.

"Aye," he smiled at her. "Was it perhaps a dream within a dream?"

She smiled as these words washed over her. "Maybe it was. I mean; with all the not so nice things that happened, it was still a beautiful dream. But, last night you said that once I had gotten some rest that inspiration would strike."

"And?"

"It did. Now I think I know what I want to write about next."

"You do recall that that story in your dream has already been published; do you not, Mrs. Muir?" He asked.

"Yes, Captain, but you did give me an idea for another story," she said smiling.

"I did?" He asked. "Tell me, how did I manage that?"

"In the dream, you told me that perhaps I might explore the idea of a young woman embarking on a new world," she said as she smiled at him. "I think maybe I have the perfect premise for that idea."

"You do?" He asked.

"Yes, and this time I won't doubt my abilities to put this idea down and know that it will not be changed," she said as she raised her head and looked at him meaningfully.

"I promise, madam, whatever you write this time will have no traces of a ghost writer," he smiled. "Also, don't forget to eat something, my dear."

"I won't, and Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He nodded and disappeared.

Once he was gone, Carolyn Muir picked up a piece of paper and inserted it into the typewriter.

The sounds of her typing could be heard throughout the day.


End file.
